The Forge
by Zoser
Summary: A Sam and Jack adventure that begins at the end of Threads before the fishing trip. There is some harsh vulgar language.
1. Prologue

**The Forge**

_First a word about the word forge._

_The word forge, like many English words, has the delightful capacity to hold within them many meanings._

_It can mean to move ahead with great speed or to progress slowly and steadily._

_It means to create something new through careful effort a friendship or a treaty. Or the creation can occur through heat and beating something metallic into shape. Here it can be both verb and noun fore the very place this is done is called a forge._

_It can mean imitating something with the purpose to deceive – a forgery._

**Prologue**

When Jacob Carter was offered a second chance at life he took it; what choice did he have, he was staring death in the face. Sure the concept of alien symbiotes seemed nuts but compared to a painful death attached to tubes and wire, flat on you back while being gawked at and pitied, maybe it wasn't so bad. So when they told him that cock and bull story he went with it. He thought they were giving an old man a thrill before he died. When he saw his daughter and Jack O'Neill geared up for combat and the explosion of the plasma from the Stargate he actually had a chill of fear run through him – 'Could the line of BS they fed me be real?' He had read Ian Fleming and later John LeCarre; he liked stories about international spies but an interplanetary, galactic spy – who'd thunk.

His life changed so rapidly from dying old man to ageless rebel. He felt young again with the renewal of his vitality and ancient with two thousand years of experience. This second chance he would not waste. And even if death was still waiting in the wings he would savor every moment of this shared life: a life of adventure, a life of purpose, a chance again to make a difference. If he had one regret, it was the emotional distance from his children. This distance he had imposed on them on Earth was magnified by the vastness of space. Selmak deep in the recesses of his mind chipped away at that stubbornness so that Jacob Carter not only regained his life but regained his family.

Jacob Carter was an unsung hero to the inhabitances of his favorite planet. But to a chosen few, most especially his daughter, his life would be remembered and cherished and ultimately, too, his death. Jacob Carter gave in death as he gave in life. This warrior chose to give of himself to save the galaxy and so was left with only a few weeks to live. This warrior was frail of body now; his last gift was of the spirit. He gave his daughter the freedom to love, the freedom to follow her heart without restrictions.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1  
**

Her father's death shook Samantha Carter to her roots. He had been on death's door before and as the fates would have it, he was presented with a wonderful opportunity. The 2000 year old Tok'ra symbiote Selmac restored him to health and Sam was sure he would outlive her.

Sure this lifestyle was wroth with danger and while she did worry, she had a certain basic confidence with the order of things. This order, in Sam's view, meant Dad was alive and actively involved in the mission of the Tok'ra and ever the Air Force General. And somehow, due to a head injury that caused a hallucination, she convinced herself to start a relationship and set a course for a 'normal' life following Dad's sage but imaginary advice.

This orderly view of reality, this house of cards she had built, was, of late, precariously veering off in what she had thought was a safe direction - wedded bliss. She was having seriously doubts but forged on irrespectively. Now, with these doubts surging to the fore and her father last conversations with her and his untimely death, the underpinnings of her neatly constructed life shifted causing the superstructure to collapse. Amid the rubble the only safety she could rely upon was the firm ground of her career and her friends. The firm sheltering arm of her commanding officer offered her a safe haven from the chaos.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
**

When he first heard about it, Jack O'Neill was sure someone was having a good laugh at his expense. The Jaffa of Prometheus wanted a parley with him. Best yet the intel he was given was that they were in the sphere of the God Hephaestus also known as Vulcan. And that was not delivered with a straight face; the hand gestures were flashed everywhere on base.

"Shouldn't this go to Teal'c and the Jaffa Council?" Jack asked the assembled SGC team leaders seated around the briefing room table after the wisecracks and snickering died down.

Colonel Dixon who had made the initial contact replied "No sir. They seem very skittish; too many of those of the Free Jaffa were once enemies and they wish to use us as an intermediary."

"So we send a team out, a diplomatic team."

"Well, sir, they asked to speak to you. They are a pretty thread bare group with not enough staff weapons for each warrior. They were in an encampment with women and children and they looked down right hungry. They were fearful of what they've seen and heard of the chaos in the galaxy and under no circumstances wished to trade one false god for another. And speaking of trade they had quite a store of Goa'uld transport containers. From the look of the rag tag group those containers aren't filled with clothing or rations. They thought you might want to exchange what was in them for provisions and safe passage."

Daniel Jackson, a recent returnee from the ether, added his two cents.

"The mythological figure Prometheus was a friend to man, which in fact is why we named a ship after him, and…"

"You think they heard about that and that's why they've come to call?" O'Neill interrupted.

Daniel continued without acknowledging the general.

"…the god Vulcan or Hephaestus as well as Prometheus are often cited as innovators, creating mechanical devices. Both possibly benevolent Goa'ulds, Prometheus and Hephaestus"

"Benevolent Goa'ulds? How can you use those two words in the same sentence? While were waxing poetic about mythology, Daniel, it is a Greek tragedy and let's not forget about Prometheus' brother's squeeze, Pandora, and her little box of goodies."

Daniel smiled wistfully to himself, always amused when Jack slipped up and let out tidbits that revealed that Jack knew more mythology than he ever let on.

Jack continued "Alright, Dixon, talk to Teal'c on Dakara and try again to make a Free Jaffa connection and if that doesn't work, I'll approve a mission to relocate them and have a peek in the mystery crates. Oh and send some supplies as a token of good will but please no livestock. I think there are still some road apples stuck in the gate ramp. "

As Jack passed Daniel, Daniel said "You know who was left in that little box of goodies."

"Yes Daniel I do and she can be a cruel bitch, so let's not too ahead of ourselves."

Heading into his office Jack nodded to Sam Carter to follow him inside.

"What do you think about this mission? Want to get a look see into those crates?"

"Only if you let me take the interesting stuff with me."

"You want to come with?"

"Sounds like it might be interesting."

"You have more leave time."

She interrupted before he could go on. "I'm fine. Mark and his family have gone back to San Diego. And I'd, well I'd like to keep busy. Have the transfer papers been approved?"

"Signed sealed and" as he handed them to her "delivered. As of now you are officially under the command of General Parker. However you have as much time as you need to coordinate with Dr. Lee to either reassign your projects or even have them sent to your new labs. You two may have to arm wrestle for the choice gizmos. As for the final transition time, their thinking two or three weeks. And then there's a week or two of leave before reporting to the infamous Area 51, and one of those weeks is reserved for a fishing trip, as I recall."

Her smile was both happy and melancholic at the same time. Everything was changing and it both elated and terrified her. Things had change between her and the general. It was now she and Jack. He supported her through her fathers passing. He gave comfort while not imposing himself. He allowed her to finish the stilted conversation started on his back porch. He opened himself up and let her know what he wanted and it was her, it had always been her.

They had frank discussions of where and how they would or even could fit into each others lives and they made decisions to allow the opportunity for that to happen. He even apologized for barking orders at her on the base. He expected her always to do what was best and when she had hesitated, looking to him at the moment Anubis set off the weapon on Dakara, it had annoyed him and he barked. Although he had immediately softened his tone he needed her to know what was in his mind at the time and what it was was his unwavering trust in her. They both had assumed too many things in the past and had gotten too many things wrong. They needed to get this right.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3  
**

Jack stood on the ramp growing more impatient as the second dragged on. Bad enough he spent most of the past week mulling over the message Teal'c had sent.

"The old order is crumbling and the new is not yet formed. We make contact with many groups every day: some to joins us, some to curse us as the destroyers of the gods and, therefore, of their traditions, their accustomed way of life, the source of their wealth and ultimately of their families. Some, too, have become mercenaries and others despair."

Added to that ominous note this mission was scheduled for 0800, that is, 0800 last Monday. The team was assembled but the F.R.E.D. bearing the trade goods was not in the gate room yet. The supplies, that were to be traded for the mysterious containers, were backordered and arrived a week late, in fact, the truck rolled in just this morning. The bureaucratic red tape snafu had so annoyed O'Neill he was ready to go to the local Wal-Mart and fill the order but they were all out of MREs and Jaffa robes. Due to this delay, Dixon's team was on a previously scheduled mission that necessitated a change of the accompanying SG unit. And finally, in preliminary talks the refugees insisted on General O'Neill to broker the deal. The general's presence was insisted upon by the band of Jaffa, Lt. Col. Carter was the officer in charge of evaluating the devices offer in trade and SG-17 was the team in charge of the mission with Col. Dodge in command. Teal'c was currently embroiled in Jaffa politics on Dakara, and Daniel Jackson was preparing for a voyage on Daedalus and so neither accompanied O'Neill and Carter. All this and the M.A.L.P. visuals were incredibly bad.

"Can't see much…a sort of crowd of people, sir. Col. Dixon had said that the camp was turning into the dust bowl. They may not have had any rain and with wind the M.A.L.P. camera lens could be covered with dirt." Walter reported.

"Do we need wiper blades on them like some car headlights?"

"Sir" Walter repeated what was said to him through his ear piece "The F.R.E.D. is packed and on it's way."

General O'Neill nodded to Colonel Reynolds, the SGC 2IC, in a transferal of power and proceeded into the wormhole with Lt. Col. Carter at his side and the F.R.E.D. and SG-17 following.

Exiting the Stargate with SG-17 and the F.R.E.D. pulling up the rear, they walked down the steps. It was mid afternoon and the sun was in O'Neill's eyes as he grabbed for his sunglasses. In front of them was a once verdant field, now a dusty encampment of tattered tents and bedraggled families. Jack felt a tingle at the back of his neck; these people looked despondent. It wasn't as though they were looking at their saviors but staring into the face of their doom. With that a weapons volley exploded from a troop of Jaffa standing behind the gate. O'Neill shouted orders - told his men to take cover but little was to be had here in the open. He grabbed Carter and attempted to sprint to the tree line but looking back he turned to fight. His men were being cut down and the Jaffa were also slaughtering the ragged families who stood hopelessly awaiting their fate. Jack opened fire on the Jaffa, who were taking aim at the women and children. With Carter at his side they took out half of their foes but both had sucome to the overwhelming odds. Jack took a glancing staff blast to his left shoulder which he just shook off. A zat took him down and he struck his head as he fell. Carter turned to O'Neill and she was struck in the chest with a staff blast. They lay in the dirt not inches from one another.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4  
**

As night fell the temperature dropped and a stiff breeze kicked up; the Jaffa warriors made a fire close to the Stargate. Most of them ate and drank and warmed themselves, they would wait till morning to sort out the booty. It consisted of one dead general with a hefty price on his head and all the goods they could scavenge. But it seemed the dead general wasn't quite dead; he waited and watched.

These Jaffa didn't seem to have the training or the discipline of Teal'c. They appeared to doze more than meditate and there also didn't seem to be anyone on watch. One Jaffa, however, was a little eager for his share and walked through the bodies looking for whatever glittered. As he bent over O'Neill, an arm snaked around his neck, a hand covered his mouth. Pulling the Jaffa to the ground O'Neill sliced through his throat. Jack kept his blade razor sharp and with all the strength he could muster it slid more than sliced till it reached grizzle and bone and the writhing and bucking body stilled. His hand still red with the Jaffa's blood reached for Carter's neck searching for a pulse. He found it steady and strong and a pair of blue eyes staring at him.

They waited for what seemed like an eternity before attempting their escape, all the while discretely stretching and flexing their muscles in hopes their limbs would not fail them. There was no moon and a brisk wind, causing a clattering of tree limbs, created enough cover noise to allow them to slip undetected into the woods.

Not taking time to access their wounds O'Neill and Carter ran it to the underbrush, away from the overwhelming odds, away from the slaughter, away from the Stargate.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
**

The following morning the Jaffa walked among the fallen, collecting all the valuables from the outcasts and the soldiers and proceeded to disintegrate the bodies with zats. When they realized that two were missing and one of their own lie dead, they looked for tracks. One of these was the whole purpose of this subterfuge; the leader of the Tau'ri's SGC had a hefty price on his head. The bounty would be paid alive or dead, preferably alive but freshly dead would do.

Finding a trail leading into the forest they spread out and began a search. Although Jack and Sam had a good head start, they hadn't gone very far. They both had been wounded and also needed intel on the Jaffa. Would they leave the planet or remain and guard the Stargate? When the clanking of armor was heard in the woods near their position, O'Neill and Carter again took flight through the thick and thorny underbrush.

Resting in the dense forest understory in order to catch her breath Carter heard the snap of a staff weapon opening. There, not three feet from her, a Jaffa was taking aim at O'Neill, who ironically was looking to see if any of the enemy were near. The Jaffa had shed most of his armor and stood there silently in chain mail. Not wanting to draw any attention to her position, she soundlessly pushed the end of the staff weapon so that it was aimed away from O'Neill. The Jaffa distracted from his original target turned. He attempted to swing the staff weapon. He not only could not spot his enemy but his staff weapon became entangled in the brush. He dropped it and turning, raised his fists as O'Neill charged him. His Kbar already in his hand, Jack plunged it through the opening in the chain mail into the Jaffa's belly and ran it up through the symbiote pouch and then angled it up into his heart. The Jaffa in his agony dug his fingers into the wound on O'Neill's left shoulder, clawing deep into the burn. They both fell together in the thick thorny underbrush. O'Neill withdrew the knife and pushed away the dead warrior. The knife and his hand were covered with pouch slime and blood. He wiped as much as he could on the foliage, grimacing at the gore covering his hands and the pain radiating from his shoulder. Carter, after appropriating the zat, covered the Jaffa's body and all signs of the scuffle with leaf litter and debris from the forest floor. And then they ran.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6  
**

Most of the day they spent running, taking cover, watching and waiting, and running yet again. In the late afternoon they stopped to rest, the woods were quiet and they had not seen nor heard a Jaffa since the mornings encounter. It was becoming chilly as the sun went down but not freezing. They were only supposed to be here for a few hours. They knew nothing of this planet, not the length of the day or the change of seasons, not the flora and fauna or the lay of the land. Unfortunately they were getting some first hand experience.

Not risking a fire, cold rations, a swig from the almost dry canteen and a hard bed with boots on was the order of the night. Rations were going to be a bit of a problem; all, but this night's meal, were on the damned F.R.E.D.

"How's your chest?" Jack asked.

"A little sore, I think I got a little cooked but not too bad."

"Maybe I should have a look."

"In your dreams"

A smile flickered across his face. "I'm serious. I remember only too well."

"I got the new improved model, thicker ceramic plates and extra padding."

The smile came again, he though her padding was quite adequate and quite lovely, thank you very much, but knew however he tried to say it, it would probably come out as offensive.

"I should take a look at your shoulder, Sir"

He didn't reply. It was throbbing.

Carter opened up the first-aid kit from her pack and pulled out antiseptic wipes and a hypo of lidocaine. She wanted him to take off his vest and jacket but the exposure to possible attack was more of a worry than clear access to the wound. Pulling the fabric out of her way Sam injected the pain killer and waited before attempting to clean the wound.

"While you're at it, Carter, do you think you could get this damn thing out. I think I picked it up while dancing with that Jaffa."

Imbedded deeply in the heel of his left hand was a thorn. She teased at the dark stub in the red and swollen flesh. When she picked up the lidocaine he stopped her.

"Don't waste it."

She managed to get her fingernails around it and yanked out the inch and a half long thorn. Sam let him clean up his hand. This kept him busy while she turned her attention to more important matters. Certain that the analgesic had taken effect Sam swabbed the burn, cleaning it of the filth driven into it by the ragged nails and steely fingers of the dying Jaffa. Holding on to his arm she noted how warm it was, too warm. Her fingers on his forehead were flicked away but not before noticing that his general temperature seemed normal. She dressed the wound as best she could and gave him two Tylenol to keep the fever at bay. Sam took out some analgesic cream squirted a little on her hand and weaseling under her uniform rubbed it on her chest.

"Woulda been glad to help"

She glared at him trying not to smile and not succeeding very well.

"How long has it been?" He asked

"Since?"

"The first shot"

"36 – 40 hours or so."

"My teeth feel furred." Jack popped a piece of gum in his mouth and offered a piece to Sam. "It's experimental for men in combat that don't have time to brush. Really, Doc Fras… shit, Brightman gave it to me."

"Think she was trying to tell you something, sir."

Even though her tone was light he had seen her wince when 'Frasier' had nearly come out of his mouth.

"I take first watch." He said.

They sat on one of the sleeping bags side by side in the dense foliage leaning against a large boulder. O'Neill wrapped a sleeping bag around them, tucking it behind their shoulders. As she leaned against his right side, Sam's mind was flooded with thoughts of another fire fight; the one in which Janet Frasier died and O'Neill nearly did. O'Neill seemed to read her mind or perhaps the same pain afflicted him.

"We going to get out of this you know. The Jaffa will get bored, if they are not already and we'll waltz back to the gate and go home."

Without turning back toward him she gave a half hearted "Yes, sir".

He patted her arm and gave it a squeeze. "Gotta work on you confidence, Colonel."

Her chin on her chest, she tucked her nose under the edge of the sleeping bag a tried to sleep.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

The next morning, although they neither saw nor heard any sign of the Jaffa, they continued on a tangent away from the Stargate. Thirst became a major concern. Much of their water had gone to washing out O'Neill's injury and slaking their thirst. The forested areas as well as the small stream beds they crossed were bone dry. Many of the evergreens had a yellowish tinge to some of their needles and most of the broad leafed shrubs and trees were loosing their leaves. Sam wasn't sure whether it was seasonal or drought.

The desiccated leaves hung from the willows that marked the rocky path that had been a creek. As they walked along the stream bed they came upon a rock wall, some geological up thrust pushed this ridge some 25 feet high. Horizontal striations attested to the age and history of the planet and from some vertical cracks water seeped. Jack was hot and sweaty, and itchy and uncomfortable. The burn hurt and the pain radiated out and down his arm. The cuff and sleeve of his jacket was encrusted with the gore of the dead Jaffa. And it was irritating the hell out of his wrist. He yearned to put his mouth against the water trickling down the rock, put his forehead against the cool mossy smooth stone, to just stop and rest. But he could not afford to be the weak link, the tired old man. His only concern was getting them to safety, his needs could wait.

"I have an idea." Sam took a relatively clean twig and wedged it into one of the fissures and the water trickled down it into her awaiting canteen.

They each had a mouthful and a quarter of the canteen in reserve. It wasn't a lot, maybe not even enough but it was something and it helped.

"… you never change your socks  
And the little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks"*

Jack was singing under his breath and Sam smiled broadly thinking he was feeling better. In fact he was drifting. 'I have to concentrate' he thought not for the first time. What he needed to do was rest and hydrate but that did not seem like an option. He needed to concentrate before he was face down in the dirt. He was of no use to Carter like this and he would be almost anything for Carter, anything but a liability.

Just when they were certain there was no water to be found O'Neill slid up to his knees into a foul smelling bog. Helping him free his legs Sam was slimed as well. There was no clean free standing water here. Sam considered using some cloth to sieve the mud but the stench of the bog had them both soundly rejecting the idea.

They continued through the brush but their progress had slowed considerably. Besides evading the Jaffa, high ground, shelter and water were foremost on the order of the day.

Their caution was not the only thing that held them back, wounds sustained in the fire fight and exhaustion due to their lack of sleep and food had worn them to a nub. They hadn't asked each other 'How are you?' or 'Are you okay?'. The question was 'Can you walk'. Determination was the only thing keeping them vertical at this point. O'Neill made the tactical decision to turn back and head for the gate. On their flight from the gate to avoid the Jaffa they had zigzagged through the woods; the return trip would be more direct.

In the late afternoon they came to a verdant field on the edge of the woods. The temperature had dropped and they decided to take a few minutes to rest. After drinking most the their water and sharing a power bar they were both feeling somewhat better, smelling kind of funky but feeling better.

Jack got up and decided to scout out the area for a place to hole up in for the night.

"Would you look at that!" Jack said as he stared at the massive Temple built of blocks of cut stone in the center of the grassy expanse. Even from where he stood at the edge of the thicket, he could see the walls were covered with intricate design more than likely the script of some ancient alien language.

"Where is Daniel when you need him? Do you think there is any chance this could be Goa'uld? Ancient?"

"What are you talking about?" Sam was seriously thinking about taking his temperature.

He looked at her as if she were crazy. "That building…temple"

"There's nothing…maybe it's the light playing tricks but there is something. Look about 20 yards up the field at the shimmer of the light - looks like a force field."

"Yeah, I see that but I'm talking about…you don't see it?

Stay here and watch my six, I'm going to check it out."

With that he crawled through the tall grass, close enough to the force field to touch it. He could feel the tingle of the energy and tossed a rock at it and it fell right through. He looked up and saw a bird fly through, so he reached out his hand and touched it, just a slight tingle but no pain and no barrier. He approached the temple and it look as though it had been erected yesterday such was the crispness of the craftsmanship of the stonework, each massive block precisely cut and polished, and it also had the look of something so ancient it could have stood there abandoned for a thousand years. Turning back toward Carter's position O'Neill signaled for her to join him in going forward to exploring the building.

"Don't you think we should stick to the tree line, Sir?"

"Come on."

As she approached the force field she was experiencing discomfort and the field itself gave her a painful shock that immediately ceased when O'Neill reached out his hand to grab her as she fell.

"You okay?"

"I am now."

He let go of her and she fell convulsing in pain.

"Jesus, Carter."

And again, as soon as he slid his arm around her, the energy of the force field no longer affected her.

Sitting in the field with Jack's arm around her, Sam gasped for breathe and said. "Force field…Ancient, I think."

"Yeah. If you don't mind, Carter, I'm not going to let go for a while."

A lot of responses flitted through her mind, none of which she deemed appropriate, so she said nothing, just nodded her head. Then she looked up and gasped "Oh my God" when she saw the limestone edifice gleaming in the fading sunlight.

"The amount of energy needed to encapsulate this in a force field that not only cloaks the edifice but selectively…"

"I'm gonna let go!"

Sam stared wide eyed at him knowing he would not put her in danger. She was bursting to make sense of the phenomenon in front of her.

In the afternoon sun the massive limestone blocks were sparkling white and rapidly fading to a pale pink and then glowing red as the sun settled to the horizon.

As they approached the steps leading to the pillared entrance of the temple, O'Neill looked back to see the shimmer of the force field a good distance away. He loosened his grip.

"Ready?"

Again she nodded and he let go, raising his hand mere millimeters from her own. When there was no reaction he dropped his arm, smiled at her, knocked off some of the dried mud encrusted on his pant leg and proceeded to climb the steps.

The massive columns dwarfed the two humans wandering among them. They were easily 30 foot high and eight foot in diameter and intricately engraved with script. Beyond the colonnade the rear of the structure housed a device they had seen once before. As the walked into the depths of the temple they became aware of the area brightening, with the focus of the lights on the center of the room. The wall, also now bathe in light, like the columns, were covered in script, the script of the four races.

"Look familiar?" He asked.

"Do you think this is what the force field was protecting?"

O'Neill just shrugged, looking nervously at the walls as if they would jump out and grab him. In fact that exactly what he was afraid of, all he needed now was an infusion of ancient knowledge. Wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake!

Carter reached out her hand to the central device but O'Neill stopped her with a word.

"**What are you doing**? You don't know if it's the same as Ernest Littlefield's planet – the meaning of life stuff. Could be a bomb or a new improved head grabber. **Don't touch the damned thing**." His voice rose with annoyance and tinged with fear for her.

The "Yes, sir." from Carter was clipped and frosty with anger.

"Let's just look around first and then you can play."

She tried not to let his over protectiveness bother her; he would have been the same with Daniel. She had responded the same way to Daniel when she was in command, for crying out loud. She had the urge to smack herself in the head.

*Big Rock Candy Mountain by Harry McClintock


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8  
**

The glow of the light bathing the building had Jack worried that it might attract attention in the dusk of evening. The whole place had an eerie familiarity to it, and a most unusual sensation, a tingling on his skin that was on the very edge of perception. As they walked toward the steps the light faded gradually. They walked out the way they had come in and proceeded to walk around the building. The ground fell away at the rear exposing the foundation. At O'Neill's approach a soft glow revealed a doorway. At O'Neill's touch it swung inward.

"Shall we?"

This time it was Carter's turn to look skeptical. Standing at the entrance they both peered into the gloomy forbidding area. It was very dark and the air was musty and the dripping of water could be heard. Sam fumbled in her pack and produced a flashlight which revealed a large room with a central pool of water.

As O'Neill walked into the room, it brightened and the air seemed to freshen and the water, just dripping before, flowed from a spigot in the shape of a shell of a nautilus into a basin. The basin was shaped like a scallop shell, at least a meter wide, and then the water cascaded over the curved edge of the basin and into the large pool in the center of the floor. Every where he walked the room responded to him.

"This is freaking me out." Jack said.

"I think it knows you are here."

"It who? The building can think?"

"Sensors, sir, kind of like motion detectors like the light over your garage."

"You know when we first walked in I could of sworn that the room was square but look at the corner, well that's just it, it not a corner any more."

They walked over to the alcove and saw what seemed to be a rest room.

"Okay, so it knew I had to take a leak?"

"Apparently, should we be expecting twins in tiny black bikinis any time soon?"

"I'm going to have to watch what I think about. Actually I have a good feeling about this place. We could spend the night and not have to worry about Jaffa. You think they can't see it either or do you think that's why they are here? Anyway I'm bushed." He winced as he pealed the strap from his wounded shoulder and then shrugged off the rest of his pack.

Jack walked over to the door and it swung closed at his touch. Not being the most trusting of souls he did have his K bar wedged in the portal. Experimentally he touched the door and it opened. He played with it a few more times until he was confident they would not be entombed. Closing it again he went back to the spot where Carter was opening up a sleeping bag and sorting through their supplies for something to eat. He snagged the canteens and filled them at the fountain. Somehow he felt sure the water was safe but he put purifying tablets in anyway. He drunk deeply and refilled the canteen. Dropping his pack and P-90 he went to the rest room. It was stark and totally utilitarian but water flowed through the stone latrine to keep it fresh. O'Neill was beginning to think he had a head injury and was still lying on the battlefield hallucinating.

The water from the fountain was refreshingly cool while the pool was invitingly warm. Although he desperately wanted to clean up Jack was so tired at this point, his wrist and the heel of his hand was aching and his shoulder was throbbing, all he wanted to do was to be wheeled off to the infirmary. That not being an option, although he did try - thinking about it as hard as he could, he would settle for some grub and a night's sleep. To top it off his head was beginning to pound. He had had a headache for the past day but this was the first chance more important matters such as staying on his feet didn't intrude. Free to make the poor man suffer the headache ripped through the back of his head and flared through the whole his right side of his face. If he thought hard about the infirmary would it appear in the other corner of the cellar room?

"You know sometime, no matter how bad you want something, you just can't get it. God knows I tried."

Sam didn't know what the hell he was talking about but didn't respond as she watched him unfurling his sleeping bag. She handed him their last MRE and he dug around in it and found some saltines and handed the rest back to her. He barely took a bite before he slid onto the sleeping bag. He was too filthy to climb inside and it wasn't that cold in the stone room. She would have liked to clean his wound but was loathe to disturb him if he could sleep.

"I'll take the first watch, sir."

"I just need an hour or two." As his eyes closed the song that had been in his head all day played out the last bars.

"I'm a goin' to stay where you sleep all day  
Where they hung the jerk that invented work  
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains"*

"I'm good, sir…"

.

Her voice trailed off as she realized she was talking to a sleeping man. As he drifted off the lights dimmed in response. Sam walked around the room to keep awake, the soft lighting and the sound of flowing water lulling her. Tired, she sat near their packs. The floor was uncomfortably cold, the stone leaching the warmth from her very bones and Sam wondered how Jack could stand it. Sam looked at the sleeping man, beads of sweat along his hairline, his breathing raspy. They both needed the infirmary. Her blistered aching chest confirmed this. They needed to get back and they had spent most of the last two days headed in the opposite direction. She reached over and placed her hand on his brow to see if he was running a temperature. O'Neill felt slightly warmer than usual but the ground near him was wonderfully warm. So Sam sat as close to Jack as she could and made a mental note to tend to his wounds as soon as possible and get some antibiotic in him as well. She was sitting up on watch and he lying on his right side curled around behind her.

*Big Rock Candy Mountain by Harry McClintock


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9  
**

When she was sure she couldn't keep her eyes open one more minute and she was sure he had had four good hours of sleep Sam woke the general for his turn at watch. The draw of sleep to strong to resist she did not think to check on his health. She slipped into the warm nest he vacated and he wandered around the room to get the blood circulating and the cobwebs cleared. It seemed safe enough with the protection of the force field and the thick stone door but O'Neill knew well that it was the vigilant who survived to fight another day. After endless tours in the rather plain room alternating with sitting on his butt, O'Neill was lured by the water splashing into the pool. The more he watched the refreshing sparkling clean water the filthier he felt.

First was a trip to his pack for his shaving kit. He went into the small rest room and brushed his teeth at the fountain like sink or was it a sink like fountain. It didn't matter all that mattered was his teeth felt clean again. He dipped back into his pack for soap and hopefully something to use as a towel. As silently as he could, Jack rifled through his pack and came up with a pair each of skivvies, socks, and sweat pants, and a t-shirt. Dropping his vest off to the side he emptied his pockets making and interesting pile of power bars and grenades, bandages and ammunition. He took off his boots and padded over to the steps that lead into the pool. He shucked off his filthy uniform and slid into the very warm water. It felt incredibly good to be able to get clean and the warm water felt so good, so very good against his sore muscles.

The rustling above her roused Sam from the depths of sleep and the clunk of boot caused her eyes to flutter open. She saw her commanding officer stripping off his uniform and she slammed her eyes shut. Well she tried to, honestly she did, and was successful as he slid gracefully in to the pool. Sam wanted to turn over but was afraid to bring attention to herself and cause him to wonder if she was awake and if so how much she observed. She was far more concerned than he; he was in a state of bliss.

The water at first stung the wound on his shoulder then it eased the nagging pain. And best of all he felt clean, the caked in mud and blood and slime, all the grime was out from every pore and from under his nails and he felt that he could float here until eternity.

When he felt as though he would be truly waterlogged he grabbed his uniform and rinsed it out as best he could. This pool seemed almost sacred with the soothing effect but that didn't stop him from doing laundry. If he had had Carter's he would have rinsed her uniform too, but that led to thoughts of naked Carter that were not good for his mental stability. Wringing out his clothing, he tossed it on the stone edge, that's when he realized his hand didn't hurt and more amazingly his shoulder didn't hurt; to his astonishment he felt whole and pain free. Well that was an exaggeration considering how it had nagged him with every step he had taken to get here. His jacket, vest and the shifting weight of his pack had abraded the raw burned flesh of his shoulder; it took all his training to continue until he was numb to the constant pain. Now he looked at his shoulder and while still somewhat irritated it looked remarkably better. He reluctantly left the pool, dried himself best he could, dressed in the clothing from his pack and went over to get his boots and vest. He could tell that Carter was awake.

"Sorry if my splashing woke you."

"I thought about joining you."

He just smirked.

"The water is delightful; warm as a bathtub. I washed out my uniform but the water is clearing up already. I think there must be some kind of filter. It'll be pristine in no time. I'm going to go out to walk the perimeter and look at the stars. Enjoy the pool."

With that he left, the large thick stone door swinging open effortlessly and soundlessly for him and then swung shut. In side the room was the slow, creaking, grinding sound of stone sliding over stone.

Sam grabbed a towel, shucked her clothes and slid into the pool. The water stung her burns and nearly caused her to rethink the lure of a bath. The lights had been low while O'Neill slept and also while he bathe but when he left the underground room they slowly, almost imperceptibly, dimmed. The water, which had run from the spout and cascaded down from basin to pool, began to slow and soon was nothing but a trickle.

Sam began to feel slightly unnerved. The circulating air which seemed so fresh before returned to the musty and stale atmosphere of their arrival.

The changes were gradual but there were so many of them that when the water was noticeably cooler Sam got out clumsily and grabbed the towel and wrapping it about her shivering body. The lights were not longer dim they were totally extinguished, the water made the odd drip which echoed in the moldy, suffocating, pitch black, freezing cavern. Frantically feeling around the walls, Sam found the door and put her hand to it just as Jack had done but nothing happened. She dug her fingers in the barely perceptible space around it and alternately tugged and pushed it to get it to open. It didn't budge. Feeling trapped, entombed in this room, she called out hoping he was close enough to hear her through the thick stone foundation. Soon she was pounding on the door and yelling at the top of her lungs. Sam was on the edge of panic when the door slowly began to creak open.

"Carter?"

She threw herself out of the room and barreling into his arms, grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt and half the hair on his chest. He had drawn his weapon and was trying to pry her hand away so he could have a clear shot.

"What? What's wrong?"

"The door wouldn't open."

He looked at her confused. "That's all?"

"It was cold, the water stopped and the lights went out."

Babbling she felt childish; all of her reasons seemed so foolish here out in the open with O'Neill, and she soaking wet, wrapped in a towel and still shaking with residual fear.

"It recognized you, it responds to your presence. To it, to the room…the building, I'm nothing." She said.

O'Neill holstered his sidearm and put an arm around her. He didn't know if she was shaking from the chill night air or fear but in either case an arm of support would help.

"Let's go back inside out of the wind."

She froze in place, not wanting to go back to the room that caused her to panic. She looked up to see the edifice bath in the silvery blue light from the planet's moon. The only sounds were her harsh breathing and the peaceful sound of the cool night. The only warmth was that radiating from O'Neill.

"It's okay. Just get some clothes on and we can come back outside. I won't leave you alone in there."

He could see the edges of the burn on her chest. It had to hurt, some of the blisters were rubbed raw by her clothing and under the red raw marks the bruise was beginning to color. Unfortunately he remembered just how much that had hurt.

Entering the room it became warm and inviting again but Carter was still edgy. She felt ridiculous for her moment of panic but was definitely still frightened by the experience. So Jack stayed close as she finished washing, rinsed out her soiled uniform and dressed herself. They hung their wet clothing from some nondescript wall fixtures which O'Neill was fervently hoping were not some Ancient devices in disguise.

"Look, I don't think it is possible for the Jaffa to get through the force field."

"It, the force field,it reminds me of Taonas – the Lost City but the rest is completely different." Sam replied.

"I don't remember that but what I'm saying is that I think we're safe here… for the night. With the force field and the stone door we can get some decent rest and worry tomorrow."

Sam nodded her agreement, too tired to raise any objection. She had been shivering the entire time, exhaustion and residual fear and cold still deep in her bones. They retired to the sleeping bag for the rest of the night.

Before he lay down he asked.

"How's that burn?"

"It's just a little hot… some blisters."

"You need some more of that cream?"

"Yeah"

Slipping her hand under her t-shirt she applied the cream to her bruised and scorched chest and then lay down to sleep.

Before sleep took her, Sam could not help but think how safe she felt with this man. Within the last two days she saw him kill two Jaffa with a knife, slitting one's throat and gutting another, she lie in a room that seemed weirdly hostile to her and yet with him she felt safe.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

He had awoken roughly two hours before the dawn feeling somewhat uneasy that he had not stood watch. He got up paced around the underground room and checked the massive stone door. Right now there could be an entire brigade of Jaffa awaiting him. He opened it a sliver and only the muffled sounds of the nights and the glitter of the stars of the heavens greeted him. Closing the door he stretched out the kinks in his back and neck before sliding back into the sleeping bag and slipping into a deep sleep.

In the morning when O'Neill finally rose for the day he decided they needed to get back to the gate. The first thing he had to do before rising was to disentangle himself from Carter. The further Sam had gotten from O'Neill during the night the colder it was and Sam had a cozy night indeed. Pealing her arms and legs off of his were not the worst job he had ever had and he would have loved to take his time and enjoyed the task but there were more pressing problems –a long hike back to the gate and Jaffa. If things had worked out as they should the mission would have been over, the refugees relocated, Carter would have new toys to play with and he would have had the luxury of playing with Carter. When did thing ever go as they should.

It seemed strange last night to see Carter so rattled by the place, considering his previous experiences with Ancient technology, he should have been the one hesitant to go anywhere near it. But no, he felt comfortable here. The strange tingling at the very edge of perception was comforting and the cellar room should be unnerving with the doors that sealed shut. The longer he was here the more he just knew somehow that they would respond to him. The room itself should have been either bone chillingly cold considering the stone that formed it or dank with the warm pool within it but neither were true. Jack felt secure here and that in itself was unusual.

Surprisingly the thick, tough material of their uniforms was dry, even the seams and pockets, so Jack was dressed and was munching on a power bar before Sam opened her eyes.

O'Neill had jostled Sam slightly as he rose triggering a dream in the sleeping woman.

***_They lay sleeping in each others arms, warm and comfortable and sated. Sam woke and trying not to move or even think to hard lest she wake him. She wanted to relive last night; she wanted to imprint every moment never to forget a single touch or feeling. She was sure every inch of her body had been kissed or caressed or both. But her arm under him was starting to feel numb and she had the overwhelming urge to wiggle her fingers. She figured his arm encircling her back and shoulders must feel the same. She looked at the burn on his shoulder, barely a trace was left. Her eyes drifted to his face where deep brown eyes met hers. She saw so many things in them, tenderness and a hint of a question. To assure him as well as herself she kissed him and felt his lips smile. _

"_I wasn't sure for a minute there if you were planning to grab your clothes and go running out the door."_

"_You forget, the door won't open for me."_

_He just smirked and kissed her again. "So you're staying?"_

_Bantering back she replied "Do I have a choice?"_

"_Always"_

"_In that case…" With that she slid over on top to straddle him.***_

When she woke suddenly with memory of the dream fresh in her mind she flushed as Jack asked her if she had slept well. Sam could not help but think of her fathers words to her. "I…you've denied yourself the experience because you think it must inevitably end in pain and loneliness. It's time to let go of the things that prevent you from finding happiness. You deserve to love someone and be loved in return." She had heard them in a hallucination and also from her father's lips before he died. She recounted these words in her mind, these words she finally understood, for now she was even dreaming of fulfillment.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Sam raised an objection to O'Neill's suggestion that they return to the gate.

"We need to do some recon of this place."

"That is for another time and another team. Today we are going home."

"But sir…"

"I'm sure a team of scientists from Area 51 with a SGC backup could do the job. After a little fishing trip of course, it will give you a little something to look forward to. "

She 'yes sired' him with a smile and twinkle in her eye.

Once they got underway they proceeded slowly but directly with O'Neill in the lead and Carter watching his six. Every leaf that rustled and every twig that snapped brought them to ground. The two day journey away from the gate took them less than half a day on the return.

It had been quiet for hours. It seemed the relentless pursuing Jaffa of the days before just had disappeared. The world seemed normal again: the birds sang and bugs buzzed. In fact there were birds, for want of a better word, flying in formation in the sky reminding them of geese migrating with the change of season. The creatures called to one another in flight and a freshening breeze rustled the withered leaves. The noise covered the soldier's steps; perhaps it covered the sounds of the enemy as well. Jack insisted they remain covert. The enemy might be hidden waiting for them to drop their guard.

When they came within a quarter of a click of the Stargate they set up a makeshift camp on a rise, watching the surroundings for any signs of the Jaffa or of the refugees. O'Neill, when he was satisfied that they were indeed alone, proceeded to the refugees encampment. Carter was ordered to remain in the cover of the forest understory and provide backup. O'Neill knew he would be a sitting duck out in the open and refused to put Sam in that position also the possibility of booby traps loomed large in his mind.

The camp had been the site of the massacre. There was not a body in sight but the shredded tents, the ground littered with the debris of many lives and the ever-present blood stains left no doubt. Not one soul remained, not a corpse.

Next O'Neill approached the Stargate. He saw where his men had fallen but only the disturbed ground, discarded equipment and blood spattered steps gave evidence. The F.R.E.D. still stood on the steps, or rather what was left of it and the M.A.L.P., which they never had the chance of sending back, lay on its side in the dirt. Both must have been hit by either multiple staff blasts or a grenade of some sort. Both were total wrecks with charred cargo and electrical and mechanical components strewn about. Among all this chaos the DHD stood and appeared intact.

Feeling that they were safe, O'Neill called Carter over so that they could gate home. Sam pressed the address while O'Neill continued to scan the surroundings. But nothing happened. The gate remained inert. O'Neill stole a glance at her anxiously and peered again at the surrounding territory.

"Make it work."

"I'm trying, sir. Everything looks right."

Sam searched through the F.R.E.D and in it's scattered remains for her tool kit.

"I think I need to take a look inside."

O'Neill was edgy but he let her do what she did best while he nervously expected Jaffa to come storming out of the bushes or for the DHD to blow up in their faces.

Carter cursed a blue streak. Jack was sure either they were royally screwed or she broke a nail. He was banking on the nail when he asked.

"What?"

"They took the control crystals, sir."

"What?!"

"They took the god damned control crystals."

"Those mother fuc..."

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"...miserable rat bastards"

O'Neill dropped his guard, they weren't going anywhere. There was no need to leave Jaffa behind. With a non functioning gate and no ride they were oh so royally screwed.

"When do you think the SGC will call in for an up date on our situation? Better yet can they dial in? You'd think they would have sent an M.A.L.P. to access the situation?"

"I'm not totally sure they can."

"No, no, no, I'm not hearing that. But if that's true the Jaffa can't come back through the gate either."

"Like I said, sir, I'm not sure."

"Son of a bitch" with that Jack sat down on the steps and tried to think.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

He was fuming and muttering curses and trying to wrap his mind around the desperate straights they were in when he glanced down and saw the blood spatter. His men, four of his men were murdered here and not a speck of them remained to be buried or mourned. He tried to remember all their names and faces. No one would know their fate, not their families and not the Air Force, unless he and Carter were to return. And this was problematical at best.

"What are you doing?" Carter asked.

"What? Oh, I was just thinking."

"No…your shoulder?"

"What are you talking about?"

He was still rubbing his shoulder as Carter grabbed his wrist and pulled it from the tear in his jacket.

"Ow, what the fuck Carter, that hurt." His voice trailed off as he looked at his hand streaked with blood. He looked at her and then down at the steps.

"I must have touched something…"

He started to rise but Sam pushed him back down to sit on the steps as she tore at the fabric of the jacket. His formerly healing wound was scratched raw.

Sam looked around in the debris and found the remains of a First Aid kit.

"Take your jacket off, Sir."

He stared at her blankly for a minute and then complied all the while complaining.

"Ya know, if there are any Jaffa out there we're sitting ducks."

"If there were any Jaffa out there we'd be dead by now."

"Maybe they're waiting for a really good shot."

"I think we would have heard him or them. I think you need to talk off your t-shirt too."

He winced as he tugged the shirt off and dislodged bits of the fabric from the raw spot.

"Yeah, they tend to sound like a walking junk yard. No concept of stealth."

Sam asked him to lean forward and she opened a bottle of water and poured it to cleanse the wound. She applied an antibiotic and an analgesic and then covered the wound with sterile gauze. The first aid kit Sam had found among the wreckage although initially quite complete was now a tattered mess. Its contents rejected by the hearty Jaffa while cloth, tents and other necessities of life were taken. By the open packing crates many of the MREs were torn apart and the rations discarded in the dirt. O'Neill found some of his men's weapons and made a cache of them. They salvaged what they could of the bottled water and the rations returning them to the weather and rodent proof containers.

She looked back at O'Neill who was quiet and a bit pale under his perennial tan. After receiving first aid and then a brief flurry or activity he was sitting on the steps to the gate. He was listing to the side with his eyes closed. She wasn't sure if he were in pain which he would deny or tired which he would also deny or trying to come to grips with their situation. She thought it was best to leave him be for a few minutes while she salvaged what she could from the remains of the medical equipment and take inventory in case the articles where again needed. Sam's first priority was to find more of the burn ointment; most of the blisters had broken her uniform having rubbed them raw. When she had the new med kit stored in a container she brought O'Neill two ibuprofen tablets and some water. And as an afterthought she took some too.

"So what do we do?" O'Neill asked. "Go back to the temple and see if there is a power source there … there must be."

"I guess so. I know I should have looked around better … something must be powering the force field. It should be powerful enough for the gate, provided we can find it and jerry rig it to the DHD."

"But what if that's what they want us to do."

"What do you mean?" Carter asked.

"What if that's why they were here."

"You think they were looking for the temple and they couldn't find it because of the force field or couldn't get through it."

"So we do it for them and then we're vulnerable as well."

"So you think they are still here waiting for us? Then why don't they just capture us and force us to do it?"

"No. It seems like too much convoluted thinking for your typical Jaffa."

"They could be following orders. Ba'al is still out there."

O'Neill turned away. His disgust for that snake and his anger at being played by him again gripped him. He might joust with him and even accept his help but Jack never forgot what the snake was capable of and would never forgive him.

Jack raked his fingers through his hair to ease the headache build at his temples and blew out a breathe and said, "So either we sit here and wait for rescue which might never come or we go back, get the crystal that we might not find and that might not work. Which, in turn, could cause a valuable piece of technology to fall into the enemy's hands. Did I miss anything?"

"No, I think that about covers it."

They both pondered their situation. Would the SGC come to rescue them or would the Jaffa return to finish what they had started, whatever that was?

"Look, Carter, whatever we do I think we should get back behind the force field till we are sure of our course of action. If there are still Jaffa around we'll be safe and if we decide to take the power thing it's right there."

"What if the cavalry comes to the rescue and we're not at the Gate?"

"What if the Jaffa come back and we are there?"

O'Neill returned to the defendable position where they set up camp, away from the killing field yet within easy access of the gate. There they put the weapons of the slain team and a cache of food and water. Exhausted they camped there for the night before trudging back to the temple.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The trip back to the temple was uneventful, a long walk through dry thorny underbrush with each of the officers feeling the effects of their wounds. Although they were sure that the Jaffa were gone they remained vigilant.

They spent the rest of the daylight hours trying to find the source of the temple power. The base of one of the structure looked very much like a DHD and was also reminiscent of the structure on Ernest Littlefield's planet. It seemed to be the most likely spot to find their salvation. It was the very thing O'Neill had jumped all over Carter when she first tried to inspect it. She got out her tool kit and pried open the base.

It was incredible. There wasn't the usually array of crystals but an enormous one that filled the entire base. It wasn't possible that it was placed inside the structure but that the structure, perhaps the temple itself was erected around the immense crystal. Not only was it impossible for them to remove the crystal but even if they could there was no way on earth, or anywhere else for that matter, that they could manage to lift it.

"I guess I'd better work on Plan B." was all the O'Neill said as he led the way into the underground chamber.

The burns on Sam's chest were so raw so inflamed that when he suggested that the pool was healing as well as soothing she began to shed her uniform. But the lukewarm water, just like before, brought no relief. The water chilled her body and only served to further irritate her injuries.

When he asked if it felt any better and angry, tearful voice let him know that she was close to the end of her rope. She kept her eyes on the trickling fountain when she heard the clatter of his vest with its assorted dangling equipment and weapons hit the stone floor. Next was the harsh clunk of his boots and following that the muffled sounds of cloth except for the ping of the belt buckle.

She heard him enter the pool but was still amazed when he appeared before her. The water had warmed to comfort level and the pain seemed to diminish as if dissolving in the gentle ripples. Her emotions were swirling within her: fear, curiosity, desire for relief of pain and desire for the man who stood before her. He looked at her as if seeking permission and receiving it he looked at the raw red wounds covering the center of her chest and parts of her left breast. He raised his hand, wet with the healing waters, and placed it gently over the spot. Her sharp intake of breath frightened him at first but he soon realized it was her utter surprise at the relief from pain. He went to remove his hand and before he could she had grasped it and had held him fast.

"It will be alright. Do you trust me?"

"Of course"

He removed his hand and completely submerged himself then rising with water streaming from his body he put his arms around her.

"Hold your breath."

And he pulled her down beneath the surface still holding her tightly enfolded in his arms.

When she thought she couldn't last another moment without air he stood up. Her craving for air satisfied she noticed the pain was not lessened but entirely gone. The burn was healed as well as all the cuts and scrapes of the mission, the dull persistent headache, the aches and pains of her muscles.

She felt better than she had in years and she wanted the arms around her to never let her go. She realized then, too, that she had held fast to him. Leaning forward she buried her face into his neck and thanked him. His fingers slowly threading through her hair was his only reply.

The two soldiers slept well that night - close by but separately, healed of their wounds, those of their bodies and those of their hearts.

Rising early, with images of her arousing dreams slipping away, Sam grabbed her pack and made for the small rest room. There was a small sink like bowl with a steady stream of warm water trickling into it, reminiscent of the fountain that fed the pool. She washed the sleep from her eyes and noticed how soft and smooth her skin felt. Not only was the burn healed but her chapped rough hands felt velvety smooth. Since her father's death and the fiasco with Pete and the nonstop missions her rather limited regiment of preening became almost nonexistent. Looking in the polished metal that was a quite good substitute for a mirror her face had a healthy glow. She felt as though she had just been to a spa. Then the thought that this place fulfilled O'Neill's desires skittered though her mind. Could it be the cause of her erotic dreams, her silky hair and her soft skin? No, this was not possible. She was a scientist. Soft water was the answer and so was 8 years of longing and his proximity…but still.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Refreshed, Jack and Sam marched back to the Gate in hopes that either the SGC would make contact or somehow Sam could magically take the remains of the MALP and the FRED and power up the Stargate. Jack had these delusions – his Plan B, Sam was feeling quite doubtful. They thought the Jaffa had gone; they thought they were safe.

They had been completely fooled. The Jaffa were still there, and had waited patiently for them.

Although Jack and Sam had been edgy most of the time except for the period they spent in the room beneath the temple, they began to drop their guard. Their downfall was simply that O'Neill believed most Jaffa were incapable of stealth, even though he was well aware that Teal'c, for a person his size, moved incredibly silently through all types of terrain. So under the cover of the wind storm the Jaffa moved in, using the same cover that Jack and Sam had used to escape the first time.

Jack supposed they were cleverer than they looked or at least one of them was, because here he knelt, metal collar around his neck, hands manacled behind his back, the chain connected to the collar and Carter still on the loose in the forest.

Sam, for her part was fuming in the underbrush. Why she had to hide while he did the scouting was beyond her – just so damned sexist and the added indignity of pulling rank, damn him. There hiding in the woods she heard voices; it was the Jaffa questioning General O'Neill. The Jaffa's voice was growing louder and angrier by the minute; his questions were punctuated with loud slaps and punches. As she crept closer, disobeying his order to stay hidden, she could hear O'Neill's answers.

"There is no one else with me. I'm the only one left alive."

"You take me for a fool Tau'ri."

Sam did not hear Jack's response, only the sharp slap it merited.

Her attention was so riveted on the events before her that, as she drew a bead on the enemy, Sam failed to notice the two Jaffa creeping up behind her.

She grumbled to herself waiting for a clean shot until she heard the whomp of the staff weapon open and felt it poke her in the back. They marched her off toward the gate.

The Jaffa put the pain stick to O'Neill's chest, his screams putting all roosting birds to flight rattling the dried limbs and desiccated leaves of the trees. His screamed as loud as he could; maybe Carter would hear him and take cover.

When he got his breathe back he asked them "What do you want?"

"The great Lord Ba'al offers a handsome reward for the one called O'Neill."

"To bad you killed him"

The Jaffa move round behind him and pulled the thin ball chain around Jack's neck and tugged free the dog tags. "I do not understand these strange Tau'ri marking save for your name, O'Neill."

"So what are we waiting for?"

The Jaffa reached down and snapped one of Jack's fingers. O'Neill uttered one of the Jaffa curses Teal'c had taught him and then felt two more of his finger snap. He sucked in his breathe to keep from crying out.

With that two Jaffa emerged from the underbrush with Samantha Carter, disarmed and with her hands bound, being prodded along by their staff weapons. From the clearing she could hear muttered curses and something like twigs breaking.

Their eyes met, Carter standing and O'Neill on his knees. He was stripped of his weapons, vest, jacket and boots. She feared to see his disappointment with her but what she saw was his fear for her safety.

"Sorry sir"

"You okay?"

The large gauntleted hand of the Jaffa slammed into the side of O'Neill's face knocking him to the dirt.

"Now we can collect our bounty. These are the only two left."

Jack struggled back to his knees and then sat back on his heels. "Are you taking her to Ba'al too?"

"She may amuse Lord Ba'al." The Jaffa said leering at Sam.

Drawing the Jaffa's attention back to him Jack said.

"You could take her to him and send me home."

The Jaffa reached down and grasped O'Neill's injured hand with a solid crunch.

"You are worth the price of more than a hundred women. And it is you that Ba'al desires more than a plaything."

In a raspy voice Jack replied "Look, you don't need her then. Ba'al wants the Tau'ri to fear him. Well, how are they gonna know to be shaking in there boots if they don't know he's got me. Send her back to tell them. Send her back to tell them all of you victory and the power of Ba'al. He's not paying any extra for her, is he?"

"Why should we not use her and send her back?"

With that the Jaffa ground his heel into Jack's instep.

Jack gasped "Because I know a general there, she's his woman and he has that poison that kills symbiotes, maybe you have heard of it. If you harm her he will kill you all, and he'll kill your women and your children and he won't stop till every Jaffa is dead."

The Jaffa fist slammed into the side of O'Neill's face, the gauntlet tearing the skin causing blood to run down his jaw and drip from his chin. He spoke loudly for the benefit of his men.

"Do you think I fear the Tau'ri?"

He put his foot on O'Neill's neck leaned over and with a voice meant only for Jack's ears said "I fear no man or Jaffa or any of the so called gods. I do as I will. The Tau'ri have already shed the blood of my brothers; I have little left to lose."

Jack looked up from the ground and said.

"You still have you life. If you harm her, he will live only to destroy you. He's a crazy son of a bitch. He cares little for his own life. Anyway Ba'al will want the Tau'ri to know of his victory; this will make him real happy, maybe give you a little something extra."

Much to O'Neill's amazement the Jaffa actually considered what he had said.

"Woman, go back to your people and tell them that Lord Ba'al again has the one called O'Neill."

He then pulled out the wide double pointed blade of the Jaffa, grabbed the metal collar around Jack's neck and yanked Jack up to his knees. He aimed the tip of the blade at Jack's throat hoping to hear him beg for his life.

"If you kill him Ba'al will be angry." Sam said.

"A warm body will suffice for the bounty. Now leave or your blood can mingle with his." He then signaled to one of his troops to replace the control crystal. The Jaffa leader brought up his fist with the hilt of the knife grasped in it ready to destroy O'Neill's face.

"How will Ba'al recognize him if you mar his face? You won't get paid and might get killed for trying to trick him."

The Jaffa was seething, dare a Tau'ri tell him what to do but he sheathed his blade and grabbed Jack injured hand and with all his might squeezed it until he heard another snap.

"Go" was the last thing Sam heard and she dialed the DHD to Cimmera and then immediately to the Alpha Site.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Lt Colonel Samantha Carter was yelling at the top of her lungs as she exited the wormhole, demanding they dial the coordinates of the planet of this last disaster.

"Dial it now! It is the only way to prevent them from taking General O'Neill to Ba'al."

It only took the dazed man a second to recover and snap into action.

Within minutes the situation was explained, the gate kept a connection to the planet Sam had left O'Neill with the mercenary Jaffa. It was allowed to close at random moments and then immediately redialed until the combat troops were ready. There were presently four teams in rotation at the Alpha Site. Two teams plus a medic and Lt. Colonel Sam Carter were all geared up and ready to bring home their commanding officer. Three Goa'uld grenades were sent through, first two, then two second beat and the third, then the troops in full battle gear stormed through.

The Jaffa had been confused by the erratic activations of the gate and thought it was perhaps due to their handling of the control crystal. And so they grew complacent and were completely surprised when the first of the grenades rolled through. Only two Jaffa were left standing on their feet when the first wave of troops stormed through and brought them down. Only two blasts from staff weapons, wildly off target, were discharged before the deadly accurate automatic weapons of the Tau'ri responded. Quiet overcame the battlefield for mere seconds. The soldiers broke into groups, some securing the felled Jaffa, some removing the control crystal to protect their flank, some guarding the perimeter and Carter and the medic to the aid of the badly beaten O'Neill.

His vision and hearing were impaired by the Goa'uld weapon but he could vaguely make out the uniforms of the SGC come to the rescue.

"Carter…Carter safe?"

She took off her helmet. The blonde haze back lit by the sun was a sight for very sore eyes indeed.

"Yes Sir, I'm here."

With that he happily passed out.

The medic tried to assess the general's condition while Carter and Wells attempted to release him from the chains that bound him fast. Colonel Dixon procured the keys from one of the Jaffa's belt and released the metal collar and manacles as the chains fell away.

"You cannot take this man anywhere but through the gate to the infirmary at the SGC and even that might be just a stop over to a better facility."

"No, that's not what he would want." Colonel Carter had thoroughly briefed the medic and Colonel Dixon while they were gearing up for the mission.

"If I might speak freely Colonel Carter, that's insane. General O'Neill has sustained serious injuries and they may well be life threatening I just cannot tell at this point but I do know this. As far as I can tell every bone in his left hand has been broken, his left foot has broken bones, his nose has been broken as well as the zygomatic". The medic saw Dixon's expression. "…ah you know the cheek bone. There are cuts and abrasions, not to mention the innumerable bruises and I can't begin to know if there is internal damage. And you want to carry him for miles into another possible fire fight to dip him in some pool. I think you need the care of a medic too, Ma'am."

Carter turned from the medic to look directly into Dave Dixon's eyes.

"It is like a sarcophagus. It cured us. It will cure him."

"Sam, what if on the way…"

"He'll make it. It's not that far. He'll make it."

Under protest the medic secured O'Neill to the stretcher. Colonel Dixon ordered the team leader and two of his men to keep watch at the gate. Four of the remaining carried the litter while two kept guard and the medic kept careful watch over the general. Taking a direct route with the sped of a forced march they were there in little over two hours, stopping only to rotate the people carrying the stretcher.

Quite a few eyebrows quirked up when Colonel Carter instructed "Now everyone touch General O'Neill."

As each man did, they let out gasps of amazement. The two marines who were checking the perimeter were not close enough to hear or react to the order.

"Where the hell did they go?"

"What do you mean; there right there."

"What?"

"Come on." And the man grabbed the others vest and tugged him toward the others and the temple only he could see.

Sam looked back to see the two airmen one being pulled along with a look of shear amazement on his face. She realized the other man must also possess the Ancient gene. She led the group to the side door and called out.

"Lynam put your hand against the door."

"Ma'am"

Colonel Dixon looked at him with total expiration; he had enough of questioning orders for one day. "Do it!"

The door swung open, the lights flickered on, the air freshened and the water from the fountain began to flow.


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

The soldiers began to set up a make shift camp in the room below the temple while the medic again assessed the general's condition.

"I can't begin to register my total disagreement with you. The general has many abrasions and cuts. Putting him in this pool is going to introduce more pathogens and expose him to possible lethal infections from wounds that are not life threatening. This is turning a big mistake into a deadly mistake and I need to go on record as stating my refusal to participate."

"I heard you the first time." Dixon turned his back to the medic and asked Sam "Okay what do we do next?"

"We need to get him into the pool - completely immersed."

"Couldn't we just wash him off with the water?"

"I don't know but I suppose we could try."

"Lynam, fill up you canteen and bring it over here."

When Lynam approached the stretcher he cleared his throat to catch Dixon's attention.

"Sir" was all he said as he held his hand out to the Colonel.

All of them had blisters from carrying the stretcher and most of them had deep scratches from the thorny path them sped through. Lynam turned his hand so Dixon and Carter and the medic could see that even though blood was still encrusted in his finger nails the back of his hand was without a trace of a wound and the palm of his hand as well.

"Get your boots off." Dixon ordered loudly as he as well as Colonel Carter began to shuck off their uniforms. "Take off as much as you can, leave on what you don't mind getting wet."

They lifted the litter and walked down the steps of the pool. The instant O'Neill's body touched the surface of the water he gasped and started to seize. Sam wasn't sure if she was on the edge of desperation or hoping for all their banked up karma to be repaid or praying to the God she wasn't sure she believed in.

"I told you this was insanity." The medic threw at them.

But with his next breath the general began to settle and breathe more normally. The swirl of his blood in the water began to dissipate. Carter ordered the others holding the stretcher to lower it, submerging as much of the general's body without drowning him.

She noticed he clutched the wrist of his ruined hand to his chest. Sam freed his wrist from the grip of his right hand and lowered the mangled hand to his side under the surface of the pool. His moans of pain almost stilled her hands. Gradually he seemed to stir into semi consciousness, not enough to make contact with the others but enough to turn his head to the left so the damaged side of his face touched the healing waters.

Dixon looked at his hands, the backs of which had been lacerated by thorns and the palms a former mass of broken bloody blisters. They were as pink and soft as his youngest tender skin.

"Well my wife might be happy about this but I look like a damned desk jockey."

"Sir, may I please reassess the general's condition?"

"Yeah sure Doc. I think it's about time to get out before we start regressing to childhood."

"It's not making us younger, Dave." Carter said "It's just healing us."

"What the hell else might it be doing? I did read the report Jack wrote on the magic box and the 'evil dead' guy he ran into while rescuing Jackson in Central America. This is kinda creeping me out."

They brought the stretcher to the edge of the pool where the other airmen took over the care of the general, while the others dried off and dressed.

Sam emptied her canteen and filled it at the fountain. Walking back she saw the medic having cut away the general's clothing was examining O'Neill, whom he had lying on his side. She could see deep ugly bruises on his back. She though ruefully of the hand to hand lessons the colonel expanded upon for her right after the knife fight with Turgan.

"Ya gotta learn to fight dirty, Carter." He said and proceeded to instruct her in eye gouging, kidney punches, chops to the windpipe and going straight for the family jewels. Who ever did this to O'Neill needed no lessons.

The medic while still looking deeply distressed said "It is incredible. Many of the bruises are fading, superficial lacerations are healing but I have still no idea about the broken bones and possible internal injuries. I gave him another IV and he seems vaguely aware of what's going on."

"I'd like him to drink some of this." Sam said

Two of the men covered the unclothe man with a blanket then put their packs behind O'Neill so he lay at a soft incline.

"Hey Jack…ahh… General, Sir"

O'Neill's eye tracked to Dixon's voice.

"Hey, Dave" His voice was gravelly and weak.

"Sir" Carter only spoke the one word lest her voice betray her emotions.

"You were not supposed to come back, you were supposed to hightail it home." He actually sounded annoyed.

"You should have seen her running into the Alpha site, screaming like a banshee. You know, Jack, I was about to sit down to lunch when Carter showed up. You owe me one."

O'Neill actually smiled.

"Carter here had us geared up with a plan and on our way in 15 minutes. You probably owe her one too."

"I've lost track of how much..." He started to cough and they could see the pain in his features. When the coughing subsided Sam held the canteen to his lips and he drank deeply, closed his eyes and slept.


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Sam could hear the argument she wanted no part of. She was angry herself that he was wasting his strength of this useless argument he wasn't going to win.

"I can walk."

"No sir, you can't."

"Look Jack,…"

"Dixon"

"…you really ought to follow the medics…"

"I told you I can walk. I'll be a liability, slowing you down if you carry me."

"The way back to the Gate is covered with rock and thorns and you don't have boots, Sir." Dave Dixon was getting exasperated with pig headed man.

O'Neill cursed under his breath and lay back down on the stretched.

Dixon took the medic aside, out of O'Neill's sight, and conferred with him and Carter.

The medic spoke up first. "Should I sedate him, sir? It might make the trip a little more pleasant to both him and us."

Dixon glared at the man for his slight to the General and his friend, even though he was thinking the same thing.

"He wants a weapon. I don't know if being drugged and carrying a weapon makes good sense." Dixon said.

The medic looked alarmed. But Carter seemed to understand.

"We all feel a little naked and very vulnerable when disarmed. There is something else we really need to be concerned about. The first time we left the temple and the pool had mostly healed General O'Neill's shoulder the further we got from the temple and the closer to the Stargate, his shoulder began to bother him."

The medic responded "I'll keep him carefully monitored, Colonel Carter. Considering how we found him he is in remarkable condition."

Carter added "And I think sedating him will just make him crazy in the long run. We should keep it for a last resort. And let's just try to ignore the request for a weapon."

With that the band of soldiers broke camp, hoisted up their precious cargo and headed for the Stargate and home. Every one of their canteens filled with the healing waters.

They took a short rest period before approaching the dusty field. Fearful that another trap may have been set Colonel Dixon sent out two scouts and communicated with the men guarding the Stargate.

"Carter, give me your side arm." O'Neill said in a low growl.

"Sir everything looks fine. We'll be at the Gate in ten minutes and home in a few sec…"

"That was not a request, Colonel, that was an order." An extremely irritated O'Neill barked as he attempted to rise.

"Yes Sir."

Sam felt humiliated by the man's tone but understood his need to be armed. She handed over her side arm. She was further annoyed as he checked the clip. Maybe she should have the medic sedate him before he shot one of their own; he words weren't just angry; there was an edge of panic. Of course there was a chance that they would be involved in a fire fight within the next ten minutes and she cut him some slack.

The order was given to head for the Gate double time. The route was clear and guarded and the gate would be open and awaiting them. They hoisted up their General and began the last leg of the rescue mission.

And so the men fled through the Stargate into the SGC, transferred the General to a gurney and ran with him to the infirmary.


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

He hurt.

He knew he was back in the SGC, in the infirmary but _where the hell was Janet_? He remembered them poking and prodding him. Getting him to move his fingers, touching and pushing on every bruise, moving his foot till he thought he would scream at them. Maybe he did. 

_Why couldn't they just put him back in the pool? It felt so good before, before when he floated in the delightfully warm water that caused the pain to ebb away._

But they left that place. He remembered that. He remembered the trip to the Stargate, the pain returning with every step, the fear as well. He drifted off and surfaced again.

_Where was Hammond? Why wasn't he here asking for a sitrep? Where was SG-1? Why wasn't Teal'c standing at the foot of the bed? Why wasn't Daniel sitting on a chair reading or sleeping with his glasses askew? And Carter, where was she? Were they tired of babysitting and bolted? Were they hurt too? _

He tried to raise his head, boost himself up to look around. A hand pushed him back; he had no strength to push back.

"General O'Neill, I'm going to give you something for the pain, something to relax you."

_Who were these people? Where was ole Doc Frasier? Was it the Goa'uld? Had he been captured again and placed in another false setting of the SGC? Where the hell was my weapon?_

He began to struggle. A gentle but worried voice said "Doctor his heart rate and blood pressure…"

The next voice, sharp and cold "I know. Hand me the…"

He felt something cold trickle into his vein. They were trying to drug him. He wanted to rip the IV from his arm but it felt as though he were moving through thick mud. Everything was fading away, sounds sensations. He was drifting. There was nothing he could hold on to, he was drifting toward nothingness.

He tried desperately to hold on to reality. Clawing the sheets he screamed for Carter and Daniel and Teal'c. The words were left soundless, echoing in his mind. He begged for help; he called to God. There was no answer. He was adrift and alone.

And he was all alone that is until his enemies showed up. They surrounded him, taunted him, reached out with tooth and claw. They menaced him with blade and pain stick. He heard the electric snap of zat and staff weapon and hand device. His enemies, not his team, not his friends, but his enemies had not abandoned him to the darkness. No, they were here to keep him company in the void. His fingers futilely clutched at the sheets as he slid into the abyss.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19  
**

The last jump that Sam finally procured landed at the Naval Air Station, Brunswick, Maine. A convoluted concoction of flight to this small New England base ate up most of her day, a day that started way before dawn. Sam was nervous, he didn't know she was coming and she had no way to tell him. She had tried.

These past few weeks were incredible nerve wracking. Within that time she had reconnected with Daniel before being whisked away to a new job, new coworkers, a new home, and finally reconnected with Cassie. But in the process General O'Neill disappeared.

Sam recollected what had happened that day. No sooner than they had come through the gate Jack was carted off to the infirmary at the SGC. Before Sam could get her bearings she received a message from her new commanding officer that her presence was needed immediately at Area 51. She folded the note, shoved it in her pocket and tried to see Jack. She knew he must be in pain although he tried to hide it. The farther they carried him from the temple the more pinched and tense and pale his face was. At the Gate he was drenched in sweat and becoming testy, bordering on irrational. Once through the Gate he looked about to pass out and somewhat paranoid. They injected him with something as he tried to struggle. It had her in a state of turmoil; she knew he hated to be sedated, to be left vulnerable.

When she arrived at the infirmary his bed was empty. The nurse who was tiding the sheets said to the startled Colonel that the General was in X-ray and would be back shortly. She met Daniel and they shared their tales of woe and intrigue over a hurried lunch. They both returned to the infirmary to see Jack wired to an assortment of machines. Daniel patted the unconscious man of the shoulder and gave Sam some privacy.

She yearned to touch him, just to glide her finger tips down his arm, remembering last week. Remembering the evening they had their 'talk', the evening they had put aside the mistakes of the past or was it they decided to ignore them. They decided to have a future. Jack left rather abruptly. At the door he held her hand and she felt intoxicated at the intimacy of this simple act, when his hand left hers it was to gently caress her cheek. The kiss was chaste and fleeting. And by the time she thought to respond he was down the steps and headed for his truck. If it had been one more second all boundaries would have been broken. Perhaps this was something he already knew and she was just to realize.

A nurse and orderly came into the room interrupting Sam's reverie and wheeled the general away. This time the reason for the empty room was the necessity of a consultation with an orthopedic surgeon. As she turned to leave one of the airmen that had carried the general home entered the room. He held up his canteen and said "For General O'Neill, ma'am" and went to fill his water glass with the healing water.

"Save it for your family, Airman. I think they frown on alien remedies here. It was kind of you, thanks."

Foolishly Sam took this opportunity to report in via phone to her new post. She was directly commanded to report immediately to her new post, no excuses, no delay. There were problem with hyper drive engines of the new ships that apparently only she could solve. Construction was weeks behind schedule and once Sam solved this dilemma she could have her leave. With a heavy heart and with Daniel's assurances that he would keep an eye on Jack, she did as commanded.

When Sam got a moment to breath, two weeks later, Jack had been released on medical leave and she assumed he was home. But if he were home why didn't he call or answer he phone calls. And it seemed that no one on the base knew where he was or, as a bit of paranoia set in, were not supposed to tell her. Over the phone she had chewed out poor Daniel while he was preparing for his next assignment, an official observer for the Jaffa council meeting.

To placate Sam, Daniel drove to Jack's house to make sure he wasn't dead on the floor. But no, the truck was in the garage, the front door locked, his cell phone on the counter but neither hide nor hair of Jack O'Neill. He called a very harried and totally somber Colonel Carter with the news or rather no news. Sam was annoyed, frightened and heartsick, one emotion tumbling into the other within seconds. She thanked Daniel for the effort and proceeded to try to work but accomplished nothing.

This is not how it was supposed to be. They were supposed to be together, preferably in bed, planning the rest of their lives. Where the hell was he and why didn't he call her?

After stewing another week Sam called General Hammond.

"Now Sam, Jack needed some time to rest up after this mission, I'm sure he will contact you soon."

She didn't sit by the phone waiting for it to ring but she did make sure her answering machine was functioning and her cell was always charged. She felt like a fool when she left her last message on his answering machine; she had called so often. 'No' she thought 'he wouldn't just walk away. We need to talk.' And so she called General Hammond again.

"He's been having a little trouble with his phone, Sam"

With that General Hammond gave her the number of the phone Jack was using and his location. It had been three weeks and even George Hammond thought it was about time for Jack O'Neill to surface.

So there she was, with two weeks leave, in a strange town, looking for a man who might not want to be found. She had taken an IPod with her with some music Cassie had given her last Christmas. Sam thought the music might calm and distract her but one song keep haunting her. When she first heard this album Sam had thought Cassie made a mistake and given her Jack's gift but Cassie assured her it was meant for her. The words of The Boys of the Lough kept flitting through her mind of a "tall willow tree who weeps all night for you and me… and it's lay down my own true love, the shadows are falling and night has come." Was it all in vain? Did they have no chance for happiness at all? She felt a tremble in her chin as tears stung her eyes.


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Jack had a frustrating day - one of the "Hurry up and Wait" variety. He drove his buddy's car to the Army Hospital in Auburn, Maine about an hours drive. That was the best part of the day so far, beautiful country. He had to have more poking and prodding and X-rays. And no, they couldn't read them here; no, they had to have the results electronically sent to the SGC to be evaluated while he sat around in some god-awful hospital gown.

"It's my hand and my foot! For cryin' out loud, why do I have to take my pants off?"

The long suffering technician glared at him, she, too, was having a bad day.

He had spoken to Hammond a few days ago and was ready to fling the supposedly secure phone he had been given to use. When he had time and the presence of mind to have a conversation with Sam the damned thing wouldn't work and when he was sitting, waiting, with his ass hanging out in a drafty hall way it worked fine. But cell phone use was not permitted here.

He was even thinking of pulling rank but there were too many men here with wound that would never heal as easily as his had. He did snag a robe and spent his time talking to the men who filled the wards, young men so similar to the men in his command, so similar to the men he had lost. He listened to their stories and praised their service. When asked how he wound up with a cast on his hand he simple said "Severe paper cuts, one of those hazards of paper shufflers".

What Jack didn't know was that every one of the service men he shook hands with or laid a hand on their shoulder felt better. Not only felt better but physically were better, nothing dramatic mind you but better.

When he had finally been given a clean bill of health, his casts removed and a regiment of physical therapy proscribed, he sped off to Bath for his next appointment. That completed he drove back toward the summer rental.

Much of the drive was along a pleasant road hugging the shore and gave him time to think and wonder why Sam hadn't contacted him. He left the SGC before he had gotten a chance to say goodbye to her. Probably for the better. There were a lot of things he ignored with Carter but this felt like Ba'al's acid burning a hole through his heart. All these things he swept under the rug he was eventually bound to trip over.

It seemed as though their relationship was like the waves of the ocean – sweeping back to reveal and then surging in to bury what it had cast upon the shore. They had spent their professional lives hiding what they felt only to occasionally have the artifice be swept away and the truth revealed. Would it all be covered up again, buried in regulations and formality?

He parked the car at the cottage and then walked to the little village to pick up some food. He barely had time for a bit of breakfast in the morning and missed lunch completely, so an extra large deli sandwich and a cold beer was just what the doctor should have ordered if they had any common sense. He needed to stretch his legs after the day of sitting so he walked the quarter mile or so to the village sandwich shop from the cottage. Strolling back with the afternoon sun warm on his back he saw her standing by the small house looking out toward the water. He thought it looked as though she were having almost as good a day as he. He profoundly hoped both their days were going to get monumentally better. Then fear clawed at his belly this was the rest of his life and it was all in her hands.

"Carter"

She turned and smile nervously at General Jack O'Neill with a six pack under one arm and a bag with his sandwich in the other, and juggling a cell phone. He looked as confused and nervous as she felt.

She wanted to say 'Jack' but "Sir" was the word that came out of her mouth. She expected a '_What the hell are you doing here_' but heard.

"Damn, I've been trying to call you but this phone is an absolute piece of shit."

She couldn't help herself she just beamed.

He smiled back and felt hope, sweet fragile hope fill his soul. He lifted up the packages a few inches and asked

"How about some lunch?"


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

They sat at a picnic table in the yard and ate and drank cold beer not saying a whole lot. The sandwich, which he cut into enormous chunks, was a conglomeration of assorted cold cuts and hot peppers in a sea of mayonnaise with a health portion of raw onions. Jack look absolutely delighted with his meal; Sam gulped beer to put out the flames. Already touchy due to a morning with a diet of acidy coffee laced with the acrid aroma of jet fuel while bouncing across the country while contemplating her future with O'Neill, her stomach was not happy at all.

She sipped another beer not only to quench her thirst but to have something to do with her hands and not have to speak. She was feeling a little tipsy when she noticed all the empty bottles that littered the table and hoped they weren't mostly hers.

When he noticed Carter had stopped eating and his hunger and thirst was quenched Jack said.

"I don't know about you but I'm exhausted."

And he led Sam to a hammock overlooking the inlet. They sat for a while swing gently. He looked at her put his arm around her and said.

"I'm glad you're here."

And squeezed her gently. He swung around to lie in the hammock pulling her along with him. They lie side by side with his arm around her swaying slowly. She didn't feel too good. He pulled a squishy bright green ball out of his pocket and proceeded to squeeze it repeatedly with his left and very pale hand.

"P.T. I got the cast off this morning."

"Were there better doctors here?"

"Ah… no. What did Hammond tell you?"

"Nothing, just that you were here. I got the impression you wanted to be alone."

"At first yeah, I was seeing a woman here…"

He felt her stiffen and try to rise up. He held on tight.

"No, no. Sam listen …a shrink…a lady shrink, she…ah…she specializes in PTSD."

She turned toward him waiting for him to continue. He looked out toward the sea gathering courage. More of the lyrics of the song that haunted her, invaded her mind as the water birds could be heard in the silence between them. 'There's a white feathered swan, who sings with sorrow the whole night long… shadows are falling..."

Jack hated showing weakness to anyone but knew if things were to work out between them he had to trust Sam and he wanted her to know why he did this. The green ball in the pale hand lay still on his chest.

"I wanted nothing left as an obstacle between us. Not our jobs, not anything and certainly not Ba'al. So I had to get him out of my head. For a while after we got back Ba'al took up residency."

He tapped his temple.

"Dreaming about him at night and invading my mind during the day. And I couldn't get rid of him. Kinda got… well not really…you know… sorta paranoid…a bit jumpy...expecting him and his Jaffa to come back for me or worse for you. I had to get him out of my head. I didn't want to be a mess with you and I sure as hell didn't want him in bed with us."

"I'm not really into threesomes either Jack." Sam slipped her hand into his.

"You know what I mean. Anyway Hammond suggested this doctor and I knew a fellow who lives up here…so. I wanted to tell you …I should have tried harder to get through."

"How are you?"

He held her hand tight. "At this moment – pretty damned good. Actually I was trying to call you to ask you if you wanted to go fishing."

Sam didn't answer and he was a bit unnerved by that. Here was the big let down, the '_I sorry but it would never work – let's be friends_' bullshit. He held his breath waiting for her to leave him, leave him before they even had a chance.

"There are some things I need you to know too; maybe it is just things I need to say. I didn't want to, you know, I didn't want to love you."

'_Okay that was good, she still lie beside him holding his hand, but the words were bad, very bad_' Jack thought trying to scramble for just what she was talking about.

"I didn't want to be the cliche, the naive young officer who fell for her CO, the star struck girl falling for the hero. I didn't want to be the subject of gossip, the woman sleeping her way up the ranks, a laughing stock.

I didn't want them to think you had coerced me or that I seduced you.

It was too difficult. I didn't want to love you because it seemed inescapable, too heavy a burden. It was like I had no options."

She knew that she was babbling but she couldn't seem to stop herself. '_For god's sake_' Sam thought '_this is Jack O'Neill you're talking to,bottom line it already_.'

'_Good God, I'm a burden to her_' Jack began to feel queezy; the hammock swayed erratically with his uneasy.

Sam continued "When I freed myself from the obligation,when it no longer seemed as though I had no choice, it finally became clear to me, this is what I wanted all along and you are who I want. I knew what was in my heart and I needed to fine a way.

I'm not asking forgiveness for what I've done."

'_She does want this...she does want me_' Jack's mind and heart settled once more.

"Sam… don't… you don't have to do this."

Her voice was wavering with emotion.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, I'm truly sorry. I need you to understand. Actually, I needed to understand – It's the kind of person I am – analytical. Yet it is all inexplicable."

"Not everything in life can be weighed and measured. I wasn't much help. I did everything from wallow in it to ignore it. I could have stepped up…said something…retired but I couldn't. I didn't want to pressure you into a decision. There was also the very distinct possibility you'd laugh and I'd be left with no life and no job. I was a coward."

He looked at her, his face serious and no hint of humor in his voice.

"Let's put this behind us; let it rest for once and for all. Nothing matters but right here and right now, Sam. We finally have the opportunity and I want you in my life."

"Oh God Jack, I've got to get up. I think I'm going to be sick."

Jack was amazed at the effect he had on her. He was serious for a change and induced nausea.


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Both of them had trying days plus the added emotional turmoil caused them to turn in early. Jack offered to give Sam the bed but she plainly stated she didn't fly across half a continent to sleep alone. But, and it was a big but, she felt totally wrung out with the added joy of a headache and upset stomach. So sleep they did. Sam dosed up with Pepto and aspirins. Jack was exhausted too and fell into a deep sleep. The lovers lay close in the big bed, their hearts finally at ease.

After a few hours the large quantity of beer they drank woke Jack first and then Sam as he rose from the bed to make his way to the bathroom.

When she emerged from the rest room and doused the light Sam saw Jack out on the deck.

As she walked out she looked at him quizzically and he pointed up. It was magnificent.

Jack said "It is even better in Minnesota."

Sam looked up at the sky and wondered if this was what their ancestors saw – this velvety blackness glittered with a vast array of stars that call to them, that sang to them, that lured them to seek their mystery and their beauty.

They stood there for what seemed like an eternity entranced by the stars. She shivered in the cool night air and he wrapped his arm around her. She readily melted to him and placed her arm around his waist.

"You feeling better?"

"Yeah, much better – you?"

His lips quirked upward – yes indeed!

"Wanta go back inside, back to bed, kinda chilly out here."

She looked up into his eyes, sparkling as brightly as the stars of the night sky. And she kissed him gently on the lips. This is why she had come.

He responded. He could have stayed out all night kissing her but it was cold. He feared going back inside would change things and cause her to withdraw.

He led her back inside and turned to close the sliding doors. She waited for him and moved effortlessly back into him arms and they stood for a while caressing and kissing one another, entranced with the newness of it. She placed his hand in the valley between her breasts and he could feel her heart pounding – pounding in the same rhythm as his. He felt like a teenager, new to the experience, excited and a little afraid. He wanted everything for this woman; he hoped desperately that he would not disappoint her, not now, not ever.

He led her to the soft bed where he could express to her what he could not in words.

In the warmth of the bed and in each others arms they found what they had desired for so long – to love and be loved in return.

She woke with a smile on her face and very, very up close and personnel to a warm body. This warm body was sporting a shit eating grin among other things. They seemed to be in somewhat of a precarious position.

"Why are we lying on the edge of the bed?"

"Only dry spot left…but we could remedy that."

She laughed.

An hour later he rolled out of bed to shower, make a pot of coffee and call George Hammond. They were going to Minnesota and they were going fishing.


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

It was all arranged; Jack and Sam would fly out to Minnesota, rent a car and drive to the cabin. They would meet Daniel and Teal'c there as soon as they returned from Dakara and could drive up.

Jack and Sam were driving toward the town for a few more supplies when they passed a small country church with a man on the roof hammering away. Jack turned into the church yard got out and called to the man.

"Hey F.X. whatya doing?"

"Thought I get a tan."

Sam saw two legs, one flesh and one metal, hit the top rung of the ladder and slowly the man dressed in shorts and a ratty t-shirt made his way to the ground.

"What are you doing here O'Neill? It's a church for pity sake! My whole roof could cave in and just when I've got most of the holes patched." The man said laughingly as he reached for Jack outstretched hand.

"And who's this lovely lady?"

"Samantha Carter, Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. Carter, this is Father Francis Xavier Foley. Frank, I was wondering if you could do us a favor?"

"Ah gee Jack, are you planning on robbing the cradle? And you, young lady, you know, you could probably do better. Have you looked around at all?"

"I appreciate the word of confidence." Jack said.

"May I have a word then with the young lady?"

The priest and Sam strolled through the garden between the chapel and small cottage rectory.

"I've know Jack for many years. We met in Nam, he was still a boy. And myself as well, a relatively young chaplain, out to save their souls. Jack pulled me aboard a chopper, well most of me." He tapped his prosthetic leg.

"We came back different men. Some lost pieces of our bodies, some pieces of their souls or minds. Our core beliefs were reformed, our faith in tatters and a very low view of those who use the common soldier as pawns in their elaborate chess game – expendable…used to suit their objectives then toss aside. I got out but he's had… what … these many years of war. Forgive me, I'm a little cynical, I fear.

Do you know what you are getting yourself into? Some of these men are too tightly wound; some welded shut so they pop a rivet from time to time.

And Jack…he's a good man, you know. And God knows Jack's had his spare of pain."

"I'm aware…I'm ready for the 'better for worse' I've been working with him for the past eight years…I know him. And I...I'm ready for the 'in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part'. I do love him."

"Well then I'll pray for you, too."

"Thanks… but who prays for you?"

"They do – the men…oh and the women too. Not all prayers are said on our knees. These men who put themselves between us and harms way, the fellows that use their minds and bodies to protect the rest of us… these sacrifices are not unheard."

Sam smiled at the old priest.

The next Saturday the old priest granted their request. It was a beautiful day, warm yet breezy. The small chapel was cool with the scent of bees wax and incense hanging in the air. There were just the five of them: the couple exchanging rings and making vows which they had already begun to fulfill in their hearts, the two friends and team mates and the clergy man.

Before leaving the small church Sam turned and placed the bouquet of creamy white and blood red tea roses at the base of a statue. The statue was of young woman who stood upon the Earth and the crescent Moon, crowned with the stars of the heavens and the heel of her foot crushing the serpent's head.

The End


End file.
